


The Unexpected

by muzivitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:09:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzivitch/pseuds/muzivitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Castiel discuss his missing year. Also, Sam has a crush that would be obvious to anyone but Castiel (except it might even be obvious to him, after all). Takes place after 6.12 "Like A Virgin."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unexpected

Castiel was too beautiful, Sam thought, and he leaned against a wall three feet away from the angel and watched him page through the ancient book they’d found in the effects of the witch who’d been wreaking havoc on this tiny Nebraska town. Long, dark lashes, unruly hair the same color, skin that was paler than his or Dean’s, but still faintly gold. And the eyes, of course; Jesus, the eyes, bright, vibrant blue you could drown in when he fixed them on you long enough. Sometimes Sam wanted to say Castiel’s name just to see him look up and stare him down with those eyes until he forgot everything that happened, lost himself in that endless sea of blue. He wanted to do that a lot more lately. Ever since he woke up in the panic room again and was himself instead of whatever he’d been for the last year and a half.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” Castiel said, and he glanced up from the pages written in spidery Enochian to pin Sam with those eyes. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Sam said, and swallowed. “I, um. I’m sorry for tricking you,” he said. “I should have just told you that I didn’t remember anything instead of making it sound like I remembered, and the details were fuzzy. I’m sure Dean was pissed.”

Castiel tilted his head to one side, the way that always made Sam feel like the angel was looking right down to the core of him, made his pulse hammer in his throat, and Sam swallowed again, pressing his back against the wall. “He was not pleased,” Castiel said after letting the silence stretch. “But you would have found out in any case, Sam. You’re too curious not to.”

Castiel’s voice was even, but somehow he made that sound reproachful, and Sam felt himself laugh quietly. He straightened and moved across the room to sit on the bed near the rickety table Castiel was looking at, and he braced his hands on the mattress. He wasn’t quite looking at Castiel, but he wasn’t quite looking away from him either, and this time it was his silence that stretched. “I might have remembered, too,” he finally said. “I’m...starting to remember anyway.” Which wasn’t good at all, he thought, because the more he remembered, the weaker the wall Death had put up got.

It wasn’t his memories on Earth that he had to worry about, he thought, and impressively managed to go only a little pale.

From the way Castiel’s eyes flared like lightning and the way he snapped the book shut, the angel knew that just as well as he did, Sam thought. “What have you remembered?” the angel asked in his rough voice. “Do you remember...”

“Not Hell,” Sam said quickly. “Just...this last year on Earth. Little things, mostly.” Dean and I share a more profound bond. That one had filtered into his mind just the morning before, right before dawn when he was waking, and it made something in his chest twist sharply. He’d wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep to forget about it, even though he knew it was true. “I was a bastard, wasn’t I?”

“You were not yourself,” Castiel said. “Not entirely. You lacked the essential part of yourself that made you feel emotions and care about the people around you.

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly, and this time when he felt Castiel’s eyes on him, he didn’t look up to drown in that endless blue. “But they were still my actions, regardless. I can’t erase them.”

He didn’t even hear Castiel get up until he’d sat on the bed next to him - with anyone else you’d get a rustle of fabric, or footsteps, but Castiel managed to move completely soundlessly - and Sam looked up just as the angel reached out to tip his face back up. He started as Castiel’s fingers brushed against his lips, accidentally, he was sure, and his hazel eyes were dark and as bewildered as Castiel’s often were. “Cas?” he said, leaning back and pushing his hands through his long hair.

“I lied to you,” Castiel said. “When you were without your soul. I don’t know if you remember.” His fingers rested underneath Sam’s lips, making Sam think that maybe the touch hadn’t been entirely accidental. “I am sorry for that. I needed to give you a reason why I had not answered you.”

 _Dean and I share a more profound bond_ , Sam thought again, and he blinked. “I remember that,” he said. “I don’t think that’s a lie, Cas. You and Dean have always been closer than the two of us. It makes sense. We...I was on the other side.” All of his words flowed easily, like he’d practiced them, Sam thought. That was because he had, back when he and Cas had first met.

But his words just made Castiel’s eyes narrow, and the angel shook his head. “You were never on Hell’s side, Sam,” he said. “And Dean was never on Heaven’s. It was a lie,” he continued. “I did not answer your prayers because I did not know the answers, and because I could tell something was wrong. If I had come to you, I would not have allowed myself to return to war until I’d figured out what that was.”

“Castiel,” Sam began, and then he stopped as Cas pressed a silencing finger over his lips.

“So I lied to you and Dean,” the angel continued. “Dean and I don’t share a more profound bond, Sam. It’s...different,” he added quietly. “But just as important. Do you understand?”

Sam stared at Castiel for a moment, and then he nodded. “I understand, Cas,” he said. “You didn’t need to say it.”

“I think I did,” Castiel said, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Sam’s parted ones in a kiss that was chaste and awkward and just the kind of kiss Sam would’ve expected from Castiel if he’d ever expected a kiss. But he hadn’t, ever, and he drew in a breath before pulling back.

“Cas?” he said, and his voice didn’t really sound like him. He couldn’t expect it to, Sam thought; it was amazing that he even found his voice at all. Cas...Castiel had kissed him, just lightly, but it was still...it made him want to lean into it, deepen it, do the kinds of things Castiel probably wasn’t really anticipating. “What was that for?” he finally managed, his tone almost normal now, and he brushed his own hair out of his eyes to keep himself from touching Castiel.

Castiel’s lips curved crookedly, and the angel stood up again. “I didn’t want you thinking otherwise,” he said before sitting down and opening the book again, and Sam stared open-mouthed for a long moment before closing his mouth with a snap and blinking. Dean used to complain that he couldn’t ever predict their angel, Sam thought; he didn’t really think this was what he’d meant. But what did he know? Maybe it was exactly what he meant. Sam blew out a breath and smiled, his dimples deepening in his cheeks as he watched the angel - his angel, he thought, and then felt his cheeks burn red, the smile still curving his mouth.

If it was what Dean meant, Sam thought, his eyes intent on the angel’s bent head, he wasn’t sure he’d ever want Castiel to be predictable. He’d rather have the surprises.


End file.
